Blinded and in the Briar Patch
by Elena George
Summary: With Snape blinded and Hermione out cold, who won the Final Battle is anyone's guess! No longer DH compliant. Complete you've got my last 2 chapters on this story.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: purely for your entertainment. Warning: character death, SS/HG.

Blinded and in a Briar Patch

By Elena George

Chapter 1- Bellatrix's New Hex 

A slicing hex slammed into Snape's back, just to the left of the middle of his back at the same time a different curse landed squarely in his chest. His whole body glowed an ominous shade of orange then purple. He felt the excruciating pain digging into his shoulders just before everything went dark. Bile and blood edged its way out of his mouth. Harry saw him collapse in slow motion; knees to the ground, then face to the damp grass of the morning. Harry had not dealt the blow; he was fairly sure who had cast the curses; he had only heard a faint grunt, as Snape was not one to admit pain loudly. However, Harry did watch blood pouring through Snape's coat, pooling onto the ground nearby.

He was torn as to what he should do – save his second-most hated nemesis or let him die. Death would be a fitting reward for his part in the death of the Headmaster, at least in Harry's mind. Still, Snape had proven himself to be an ally of the Order in most every other way. McGonagall found the Headmaster's pensieve that cleared Snape of murder. Snape had continued to pass word back to the Order via an odd assortment of methods, not the least of whom were Harry's friends Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin. Once he had even used Dobby to deliver key information about the horcrux that the Malfoys held. Harry had found that monumentally ironic since Dobby had once belonged to Malfoy and was now the conduit of his ultimate indictment.

Harry also had to consider in the briefest of moments what he had promised Hermione. He had promised her that he would not kill Snape, albeit he very much wanted to kill him in the most painful of ways. He remembered what she said:

"_If you give in and kill Snape, you will be no better than Voldemort. That is exactly what Voldemort would do. You are better than that. Professor Dumbledore knew that you love in spite of it all. Love forgives. Remember Professor Dumbledore and honour his memory!"_

Thus it was that Harry made his way to Snape's bleeding form. He cast the same spell that he'd heard Snape use on Draco Malfoy when he, Harry, had slashed Malfoy with the Half-Blood Prince's _sectumsempra_ curse. The bleeding stopped immediately, but Harry was unsure what other damage had been done since Snape had not moved a muscle, save those necessary to breathe. Harry shook him with no effect, so he left him there for the medics to collect when the battle was over. Harry then moved back into the thick of things.

An hour later, the battle continued to rage from the castle to the edges of the Forbidden Forest to the Lake's shoreline. Neither side had claimed an advantage, let alone the victory. Slowly, Snape began to come back around. Hexes, curses, and jinxes flew over his ever-so-groggy head as he tried to figure out where he was and what was going on around him. It came to him through the cotton wool that was his mind; he was in the "final" battle to save the Wizarding world.

Snape still felt the deep pain between his shoulders, which together with the blood lost earlier when the wound was in free-flow, sapped his strength and ability to think clearly. It had been a mixed curse: _sectumsempra_ plus a heavy-duty stunner and who knows what else Bellatrix hit him with. He was still feeling the effects of the stunner and could scarcely breathe; add to that his eyes were completely out of focus. His slashed back muscles, while no longer bleeding profusely, were nevertheless deeply injured. There was no blood-restoring potion to negate the effects of the earlier loss. Stuffing his wand in his sleeve, Snape rolled toward the forest's edge and crawled the rest of the way into the closest thicket for cover. The briars added to his overall discomfort, but not enough to make him move beyond the thicket. Again, he lost consciousness.

Hours later, Snape began to come back around to semi-conscious. He found himself in a thicket of briars at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He took a quick mental inventory of his injuries. His back felt like it was being crushed and shredded by a hippogriff. His head ached even more than that. His hands would be useless for brewing for some time, so torn by the briars were they. He was sure that his eyes were full of sand and his ears stuffed with cotton. Gently, he shook some of the lethargy away and listened carefully. His squinting did nothing for his eyes, frustrating him to no end.

When Snape had crawled under the brush, the battle was still undecided. He certainly had no desire to pop back up and be hit by all manner of curses by the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters for treachery. Clearly, he had been fighting for Potter and his side. He also needed to get to the Headmaster and revive him. He was the only one who knew the potion and spells to bring him back from the "suspended animation" of the Draught of the Living Death. He had also hope that the extended period of rest had begun to reverse the effects of the ring horcrux destruction and not rendered him dead after all this time.

He could hear the cries of the wounded but little else. Furthermore, Snape felt something heavy lying on top of him. No hippogriff, it was a person; he could hear its breathing, so whoever it was, was alive for the time being. This person's falling in upon him had driven the briars deeply into the flesh of his already abused back. Though he could barely see what he was doing, he did manage to slip out from under the weight of this other person.

He heard it moaning; it was female by the sound of it. His head caught another 3-inch briar making him hiss. He continued to move around under the cover of the thicket trying to figure out who had unceremoniously landed atop him. Was she friend or foe? He found her face and ran his hand across it. It was not gaunt like Bellatrix's. No, it had bushy hair – Granger! _It had to be Granger!_ he thought.

Shaking the body, "Miss Granger, wake up," he whispered not sure if his side had won and not wishing either of them to be discovered.

He found a strong pulse at her throat. Finding her alive and likely to survive was a brief relief for Snape. Perhaps she could tell him what had happened while he was unconscious. That is if she ever awakened. He dragged her closer to himself, tucking her shoulder under his. He kept patting her face with his free hand, hoping to stimulate her to awaken. He was feeling exceptionally anxious for news since his eyes were growing progressively darker and darker. The growing blindness was unnerving. It was blindness, for it was not yet night! There were no night sounds as yet, and the warmth of the late afternoon penetrated even the dense undergrowth into which he had cast himself.

She gurgled a bit and began to come around.

"Sh!" he cautioned with a soft whisper. "I cannot see and don't know if the battle is over or not. We are hidden in a thicket at the Forest's edge."

Her head lolled around on his shoulder and chest, moaning softly.

"Harry, watch out," she mumbled. "Behind you…" her voice faded as she jerked. "Nooo, I'm hit…" she jerked again and was silent.

"Sh. Sh. Sh," Snape whispered into her ear and tried to muffle her cries with his hand. "Not so loud, Miss Granger."

Her wand did not seem to be in her hand, so Snape called for it nonverbally, "_Accio Granger's wand._"

Snape felt around behind him for a way into the Forest, gathered up her wand, and pulled them together backward. He would listen a while then feel his way out of the thicket into the Forest. The briars ripped into his exposed back again and again. Once he had extricated them out of the thicket, he stood and lifted her into his arms. With a hushed pop, he apparated them to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade.

He bumped into walls and nearly stumbled over rubbish on the floor as he edged his way to the bed where the children had blasted him years ago. Carefully, he laid her down and then collapsed on the other side, face down next to her. His head was still reeling, his back was a bloody and thorn-inflicted mess, and his eyes were now entirely blinded. At least his hearing was back to more or less normal.

Dusk had been approaching when he'd first come to and had some vision. Night sounds had begun to dominate his hearing as well. He knew it had to be after dark by now, so sleep did not seem out of the question nor completely a bad idea. Maybe when he awakened the next morning, things would be different or perhaps she would be fully awake.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Waking up to New Realities 

As dawn emerged, Hermione began to stir again. She found a curled up, sleeping Snape, back to her, and was reassured by his presence. The first thing she noted was the long rip in the back of his shredded coat and the dried blood surrounding it. She tried to replay the scene in her mind as best she could remember it. Then she turned her attention back to Snape and watched him sleeping peacefully. Gently, she removed the remaining thorns from his flesh and repaired his shirt and coat. Hermione noticed a subtle change in his breathing.

"Professor?" she inquired softly.

Without opening his eyes or turning toward her, he responded, "Miss Granger. Good to hear that you have finally awakened. Now, would you be so good as to tell me who has won."

"I have no idea," she said.

With a soft grunt of a murmur, he rolled onto his back. His eyes still closed, he wanted to know, "How was it that you came to land on me?"

"Land on you?" she mirrored.

"Yes," he opened his eyes and turned his attention in her direction.

Hermione let out a gasp, "Oh, Professor, your eyes!"

"Yes, I cannot see, so you will tell me what you see," Snape spat.

She took a quick observation, "Your eyes are covered with some kind of thick, opaque film. It's almost like a cataract. My auntie had really bad cataracts before a surgeon cut them off."

At that, Snape shuddered, "Nobody is cutting on my eyes!"

"What happened to you out there?" she asked.

"I was fighting LeStrange when I was hit from the back with a slicing curse, then by LeStrange nearly at the same time from the front. The world was consummate pain then all went black. When I awoke, the cut was healed at least on the surface, but everything else was still quite disjointed. It was close, so I crawled toward the Forbidden Forest until I found a thicket and slipped inside to wait for things to clear. I must have lost consciousness again, for when I awoke you were lying on top of me," he finished. "I apparated us to the shack in Hogsmeade until we could determine what to do next. Of the Dark Lord's forces, only Wormtail knows of this place."

"I remember being at the edge of the grounds near the Forest when I was hit by something very powerful. It lifted me off my feet and must have thrown me into the thicket where you were. It probably drove those thorns further into your back, too. I suppose the attacker either thought I was dead from the impact or would be incapacitated and did not bother to finish me off," she added to the growing body of what they together knew.

"That still does not answer the main question of which side won," Snape stared with blank eyes at the ceiling.

Hermione lay back down next to him and stared as well. After some silence, she added, "Thank you for getting me out of there in one piece, sir."

"You're welcome," he said softly without moving an inch. "…And thank you for the repair work just now."

"You're welcome. So, what are we going to do?" she wanted to know.

"Sh. I'm thinking, Miss Granger," he put fingers to his mouth.

Hermione was not one to lie about quietly for too long when she felt work should be done, "I'm going out to see what I can see."

"That would be inadvisable, Miss Granger," Snape cautioned.

"Why?"

"If the Dark Lord has won, you would be a 'toy' to be played with. And, Miss Granger, I assure you, he plays exceedingly roughly with his 'toys,'" Snape spoke in low dangerous tones.

Hermione was up and pacing around the room. She tried peeking out the boarded-over windows.

"I can't see anything from here," she grumbled. "I can barely see the street here at the edge of town."

Snape sat up on the bed, "Miss Granger, you will lead me back to the castle via the tunnel that comes out in the roots of the Whomping Willow. We will do this when it gets dark."

"That means staying here for the whole day!" she blustered.

"What, and my company is so bad?" he smirked.

Hermione hung her head, "That's not what I meant, sir."

Snape nodded his head, trying to look in her general direction.

"I'm hungry," she announced quietly.

"As am I," Snape responded and stood. "Is there a table in here?"

"Yes, sir," she moved to him and brought him to the little table.

He felt the edges and then pulled out his wand, "Here, then, tea and biscuits. I'm afraid you will have to pour."

Hermione led him to a chair and brought him something to eat, "I'm sorry to be such a…"

He waved her off, "Sh, Miss Granger, no need to apologize. Enjoy your tea."

She handed him a cup with a biscuit on the side. He fumbled with it a moment before finding his mouth. It was most distressing suddenly not being able to see. He hid his anxiety well, as only an accomplished spy could.

When they had finished, Hermione asked, "Sir, will you let me look at your eyes? Maybe there is something I can do."

Snape grumbled something then, "You can try, but I doubt it will do any good. I fear this will take the skilled healers at St. Mungo's some time to sort out and repair, if at all."

"_Lumos_!" commanded Hermione.

After examining his eyes, she regretted it, "Okay, we need to get you to a healer, sir."

Snape harrumphed quietly but said nothing out loud.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Boredom and Beyond 

The day passed slowly until Hermione found a small collection of books in the corner of their room, presumably left by the Marauders years ago. Another pile of rubbish had obscured them from her sight and initial check of the room.

"Sir," Hermione cheerily started, "I've found some old books. Would you like for me to read? It could make the time until night pass more quickly."

Snape's mouth made its usual sneer, then, "Oh, why not."

Later on, Hermione investigated other rooms in the shack when they grew tired of her recitation. She found a small cache of food that Sirius had left when he lived there during her third year. With that, Hermione prepared a light lunch then dinner for them before they ventured out back to the castle. Hermione led the way; Snape held her elbow as she worked her way back through the tunnel between the castle and the village's haunted house. Every now and then, she would have to caution him to duck his head.

"You know that was more than what Lupin did for me after you children knocked me unconscious," he mused.

"Oh, it wasn't Remus that had you in tow. It was Sirius," she relayed as they walked along. "Remus kept hold on Peter Pettigrew. And I am very sorry for that, sir."

Snape merely grunted.

"Well, we had to do something before you killed him. You know that now, don't you, Professor? It was Pettigrew who betrayed the Potters, not Sirius, all along," she tried to defend Harry, Ron, and herself.

Again Snape merely grunted. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. Snape hitched a bit of panic back down.

"What is it? What do you see?" he hissed softly in her ear after pulling her close.

"I see a man who lives in the past who needs to live in the 'now.' I see a man who holds grudges long past their due. I see a man…" she began.

Snape stiffened, and in doing so, hit his head on the wall. He spat, "Yow! See what you made me do!"

"I made you do!? You did it to yourself," Hermione countered. "I'm not a first year that you can intimidate any more. I came of age three years ago. And by the way, blaming others for your own deficiencies is not exactly a winning strategy... Now let me see that," she remarked flatly as she reached up to his head.

He growled deep in his chest as she brought his head down to see the damage. She growled back at him as deeply as she could.

"Not funny, Miss Granger. Not funny," he snapped and jerked his head away.

"Do that again, and you'll hit your head again," she replied, smiling.

She felt the knot starting to rise and charmed it away, "Better?"

Again he growled low in his chest before pronouncing, "Better."

She secured his hand back on her elbow before teasing him, "You know that growl of yours is quite attractive in a feral sort of way."

His eyebrow lifted before he grumbled again, "Watch it Granger. You're playing with fire here."

"Again, I'm not a child any more, Professor. I graduated two years ago and am now Professor Vector's apprentice and will finish that this year. So, I hardly think I'm playing with you," she commented softly then paused. "It surely must be difficult to see us as adults when you've known us as pre-teens and teenagers. How did Professor McGonagall change how she saw you and treated you when you came to teach so shortly after graduation?"

"Mostly, I stayed in the dungeons and kept to myself," he replied quietly, mulling over what she had told him.

"And when you resurfaced, poof, you were an adult in her eyes?"

"Why are we talking about this?" Snape demanded.

"Give us something to do while we wander back to Hogwarts?" proffered Hermione lightly.

"Are we there yet?" Snape wondered.

"Nearly so," Hermione responded.

A few more minutes and she stopped, "You stay here. The entrance to the Whomping Willow is just up ahead a few more feet. I'll take a look around and if it's safe, I'll take you to the castle. If not, we'll go back to the Shrieking Shack and devise another plan."

"Fair enough. You don't need a blind man on your arm if you have to move quickly," he started then pulled her back to himself, "Don't do anything foolish as Potter would surely try. We need each other if we are to survive this."

"Professor," Hermione began again, "Harry was the one who stopped the bleeding and saved your life on the battlefield. Harry is _not_ James. He really is a pretty pleasant person if you'd ever bothered to get to know him and give up living in the past."

"The past is all I have," Snape fought back.

"You're wrong, you know. You don't have the past; it has you," she turned and started away.

"Miss Granger!" he called.

She turned back and looked at him.

"Be careful," he paused. "Please. I'd not like to see anything happen to my 'Gryffindor know-it-all.'"

He gave her a slight smile, which she returned. She moved back to him and lifted his hand to her face so he could feel the smile. His fingertips glided across her mouth where she had placed his hand. He understood her gesture of friendship and relaxed as much as he dared.

"I'll be right back for you," she spoke tenderly. "Before I do, let me start to heal your hands."

Hermione moved her wand over his abused hands and spoke some healing spells, "It's a start. We'll do more healing later, once we get you safely back to your rooms at Hogwarts."

"Thank you," he whispered.

Snape closed his eyes and slumped against the stonewall and waited for Hermione to return. Fear welled up in his chest. He tried to control the rise of the least helpful of his emotions.

Hermione looked around the door that led outside, darkened her wand, then extended it at the ready for a fight. Cautiously, she eased the door open and peered suspiciously around its corners. She stopped to listen; hearing nothing, she eased her way upward. She was still below the tree's swinging arms; she'd already had one bad experience with this magical tree and was not up to another one any time soon. She craned her neck to survey what had been the battlefield. Hermione thought that she saw some movement but could not make out who it was. She ducked back into the safety of the dark passageway.

Hermione was back to Snape in a flash, "I could see somebody out there, but I could not tell who it was. Whoever it was it was too small to be Hagrid. If I had stopped the Willow from slashing to and fro, it would have given away that we are here. What do you think we should do, sir?"

Snape was pleased by her prudence, "Excellent analysis, Miss Granger…"

"I think you can call me Hermione," she paused, "don't you?"

Snape was silent, mulling it over, "Very well. Perhaps, we should remain here for a while longer and then take another look?"

"I have no particular desire to go back to the Shrieking Shack any more than I suspect you do, sir. So, yes, let's do that," Hermione agreed.

Snape sank to the floor and drew his long legs up closer to his body. His arms hung limply by his side; his head rested on the stone behind him. Hermione followed suit, but tucked her legs under her arms and rested her chin upon the table they formed.

After only a few moments of silence, Hermione stated, "I'm scared, Professor. What will we do if 'he' has won?"

Snape did not move, "We will die painful deaths, that is what we will do."

"Such a comforting thought," she remarked sarcastically.

Snape's lips twisted into a smirk, "It would seem I've rubbed off on you."

"How do you mean?"

"You are as cheerful as I am and every bit as sarcastic. Not a Gryffindor trait, I might add," he said.

"You haven't exactly left much room for optimism, sir," she rebutted.

He sighed, "No, I don't suppose I have."

More silence ensued to be broken again by Hermione, "Do you suppose anybody will be looking for us? I mean, we could apparate away from here, get some brooms, and make our way to the continent or perhaps to North America, Canada, maybe?"

"I know the Dark Lord will be looking for me. I'm sure that Death Eaters have combed the dead and injured looking for my body. When they did not find me, they will continue to hunt me down. I suspect it would not be a good idea to be found in my company, Hermione," Snape offered. "Besides, as I am blinded, I do not think a broom would be a good way to travel."

She scooted a little closer, "Well, if you had any ideas of my leaving you behind and escaping by myself, you may as well put them away. It shall not happen. We are both in the Order and we will…"

"Will what?" he growled. "Will tend an old blind wizard until he's overtaken by Death Eaters? I can assure you that the Dark Lord will put me to death in front of you. Before that, his 'friends' will each rape you in my hearing. We will both suffer greatly before death comes to claim us both. No, I think it best if you and your Gryffindor scruples abandon me to my unhappy fate."

"If he has won, you mean," she tried to be hopeful. "And if he has won, I will still not abandon you. We may not ever be good friends, but I have always admired you. I only lost trust in you for a short time after the Headmaster died. When you contacted me, I just knew that you were still good."

"Hermione, it's been quite some time since I was good," Snape replied softly. "In any event, I will not have you squander your life on my account. You are a brilliant witch with a future ahead of her. I'm a broken old wizard with nothing but bitterness, a bad temper, and an even worse past. I'm hardly worth your time and trouble."

"I'll be the judge of who is worth my time and trouble, sir," Hermione retorted.

"Gryffindor pride," he grumbled, "will get you killed."

"Maybe so, but I'll go down fighting and with someone I respect."

"Respect? Why on earth would you respect me?" he wondered aloud.

"Other than the undeniable fact you are one of our world's leading Potions Masters, I'd say it's because you had courage enough to admit when you were wrong and make amends. And that goes beyond your bravery in facing 'him' and spying for us," she offered. "It takes real courage to admit when you're wrong and even more to try and make it up."

He growled a bit.

"And I cannot begin to imagine what you have been through when you have to go 'his' meetings," Hermione continued. "When I was in school, you were a brilliant Potions Master – far beyond Slughorn. When he came, things went downhill in Double Potions. I missed your potions classes terribly, even if you delighted in personally humiliating me. I always learned something from you. It's not that you weren't a great teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, because you were. I know how much you wanted us to be prepared for the war; I'm just sorry it turned out this way."

"Thank you," Snape said ever so softly, realizing that his work had not been for nothing all those years.

This time he broke the silence, "You were a bright student, and I apologize for insulting you on a fairly regular basis."

"Apology accepted," was her response. "So why did you insult me?"

He smirked, "Because of the company you kept."

"It wasn't because I am a 'Mudblood'?" she asked.

"I don't use that term any more," Snape quietly responded. "It no longer has any meaning for me, and it probably never should have had a place in our world. It was a dreadful mistake. I deeply offended someone whom I loved with that term, and I lived to regret it deeply. It was a very long time ago, and she is gone now. I have since erased that word from my vocabulary. Who your parents are should not matter. The Headmaster is quite correct. What _you_ do with _your_ talents is all that matters."

"So why does Malfoy use it so liberally," she stated.

"Because his father is a bigot," Snape said, "and a fool."

"If the other side has won, he'll be the next Minister of Magic," she declared. "Then where will people like me be?"

"Dead or ill-treated 'pets' of the Dark Lord," Snape told her.

"No, thank you," she spat back. "I'll go down fighting first."

Snape fiddled with his wand before saying, "You want to take another look around?"

Hermione got up, dusted off, and headed back to the hidden door.

"Same problem, sir," Hermione regretted to say. "This time I saw several people wandering around. Perhaps we should go back to the Shrieking Shack and try again tomorrow night?"

"Yes, perhaps that is a wiser course," Snape sounded reluctant.

Hermione led them back. She worked on his hands again. He thought they still did not feel quite normal yet. They still felt rough and thick to him, not sensitive as before. His hands and nose were his life. Certainly his eyes could tell him if an ingredient was prepared properly, but so did his hands and nose. He could not brew until his hands felt like _his_ hands again.

"I'm rather tired, sir," she stifled a yawn.

"Yes," Snape replied. "You need not fear anything from me, Hermione. I will not touch you, just as I did not touch you last night."

"Never thought you had or would be in any way unseemly," she smiled with her voice. "I have always found you to be quite proper."

"Thank you," with a slight smirk, Snape cocked his head to the side. "Where is the bed? I'm afraid I'm a bit disoriented at the moment."

Hermione took his arm and led him around to where he had slept before. Putting his coat across a chair and kicking off his shoes, he stretched out and then rolled on his side away from where Hermione would lie down. Hermione tucked her back into his back and extinguished her wand, which she clutched to her breast.

"Good night, Professor Snape," she offered softly.

"Mmmm," he responded.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Shivering in the Shack 

On the third day of confinement, Snape was even more anxious than he was on the first two. Things back at the castle's grounds simply were not changing for them one bit. Furthermore, he was beginning to **_feel_** the fever that he'd been running since being hit in the battle.

"Perhaps you could improve my game of chess?" Hermione requested.

"Can you play in your head, Hermione?"

"Not really, but I can create a makeshift chessboard and pieces out of some of the rubbish that is here," she commented. "Can you play in your head?"

"Of course," he tried to sound casual. "Then again, I have been playing for as many years or more than you have been alive."

"Yes, but twenty Wizarding years is a drop in the bucket," she teased back, eliciting a smile that flickered across his face.

"Then I shall teach you how to keep the game going in your head," Snape told her, leaning in her direction. "That way you can keep up."

No smirk followed. His voice was not tinged in the slightest by disdain. Hermione thought he sounded genuine. Maybe she could be a friend to this most unusual taciturn man.

"It's a deal!" she joyfully pronounced.

That night after their reconnoitering found persons on the grounds again, they retired on opposite edges of the bed, Hermione found herself crying.

Unable to sleep for the movement, Snape gave a long sigh, "Miss Granger," he caught himself, "Hermione, you are shaking the bed."

She replied with a snuffle.

He rolled over to face her, "What is it?"

"I don't know, Professor. I'm tired of this ordeal. I don't know what comes next. And I'm scared," she turned toward him and wiped her eyes.

"I understand. Pity you are so young, Hermione. Sometimes age makes it less frightening," he commented without his usual bite.

"Are you telling me you're not afraid?" she asked innocently.

"No. I am afraid, very much afraid. I'm not only deeply concerned that the Dark Lord won, but I am also blind as the proverbial bat. It's not a good position to be in, Hermione," he began. "It's just that life experiences teach us how to deal with the fear. The last thing you want to show to the Dark Lord is naked fear. He is feral, rather like a wild boar of an animal. If he senses fear, he will devour you shortly after playing with you to increase your fear and his pleasure."

"That's sick," she was repulsed.

"It is. But it is also the truth," Snape finished.

He rolled onto his back, "Come here. You can never tell anybody that the 'greasy git of the dungeons' offered you his shoulder to cry on, you know. It would destroy my reputation, and I can't have that."

A vague hint of a genuine smile played at the corners of his lips. She scooted closer, felt the extraordinary warmth of his body, and tentatively put her head on his chest. He tucked his arm under her then wrapped his other arm around her. Her ragged breathing began to smooth out somewhat as she listen to the regular beating of his heart. Finally, she drifted off into a light sleep. She found consolation in his presence and he in hers. Later, when each returned to his or her own bed, they would both discover that they missed the other's warmth and solace.

The fourth day was spent in the same way as the previous ones. That night's run to the Whomping Willow yielded the same frustrating results. However, this night instead of Hermione shaking the bed, it was Snape. He was shivering and could do little to control it. Hermione found that he had spooled all the covers around himself and continued to shake. She did not know if it would be wise to awaken him – perhaps it was only a nightmare. Surely, after all he'd seen, he would suffer nightmares. Then again, perhaps it was an aftereffect of the curse that had robbed him of his sight. He grunted and moaned in his fitful sleep. After watching him for some time, she decided to awaken him and see what was the matter.

"Professor," she whispered.

He groaned again.

"Professor Snape," she said more loudly.

He jerked awake, "I'm freezing," he announced.

"I figured as much. You stole the whole blanket an hour ago," she replied.

She touched his face, "You're burning up, sir! Here…"

She began to unroll him from the knot of blankets. His back was both covered in sweat and infection from the thorns that had lacerated him in the briar thicket days before.

"Where does it hurt, sir?"

"I have had a screaming headache – for days now. Everything else now aches as well."

"I think these injuries from the thicket are infected," she noted. "We need to get your fever down and the infection under control."

"It's not as if we are in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts," he grunted. "I shall simply have to suffer it through. It won't be the first time. It does explain the persistent headache ever since the battle."

"But you never said anything, sir… Okay, so we are not at Hogwarts yet, but I can brew you some willow bark tea to ease the fever and the headache," she spoke so softly.

He convulsed in a shiver. His head was throbbing and muscles too weak to put up much of a fight. All he could do was grunt and moan softly.

"I'll be back," she threw his coat around him and tucked him back in, kissing his forehead, as a mother would do.

"Please be careful, Hermione," he whispered after she left. "I can't lose you now."

He could not sleep; he could only shiver. His breathing was becoming increasingly laboured as the infection tore through every fibre of his body and mind. He felt as if he was losing control of his mind as well as his body. The briars must have been full of magical poisons. He had done well to protect Hermione from their tearing into her flesh as he pulled them out of the thicket. She had fallen through from the top where fewer briars were and had escaped the infection. However, her fall had driven the thorns deeply into his flesh.

She slipped out to the Whomping Willow and peeled some bark off its roots, placing it carefully in a rucksack she'd found earlier in the Shack. She looked about carefully, and slipped to the greenhouse nearest the tree. There was no one on the grounds at three in the morning. She pulled some more medicinal herbs from there, stuffing them into a large knapsack. She scurried back to Snape. Her round trip took a little under two hours.

Once Hermione returned, she found Snape almost incoherent and nearly unconscious. The poison-induced fever was moving too quickly now. She gingerly removed his shirt and applied a paste of herbs to draw out the infection as the tea brewed. He quietly acquiesced as the fever wracked his body. His own hands shook too violently to hold the cup. Hermione held it and forced him to sip the tea every half hour. She tended him the rest of the night and into the next morning when she finally fell asleep next to him. Only her head rested on the bed; her arms dangled by her sides.

The next day she carefully spooned some sustenance into Snape. She would hold him close when his suffering seemed the worst. After a week of her makeshift treatments, the worst of it seemed to be over. Each day upon awakening, Hermione had cleansed the wounds and applied more of the poultice. She had refused to try for the castle since he was far too weak to make the journey, and she would never leave him behind. Snape began to recover a bit; his fever had broken for the moment; the wounds were only now beginning to drain of their poisons.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – To the Castle 

By the following nightfall, he was ready to try for the castle again. The trip, slower than before, netted the same results as before. There were still other men out on the grounds searching for someone or something. It was too dark to determine on whose side the cloaked figures were. However, after two weeks of hiding, the food cache that Hermione had found was nearly depleted. She knew that they would need to move soon or starve to death. Plus, his wounds were still infected; the drainage smelled like rot to her nose. Snape ran an intermittent high fever as a result. She would fix him something better when they got to his laboratory.

Hermione announced, "After a fortnight here, we are going to have to get to Hogwarts tonight. There is just not much more food for us here. And you need more than what I can do here for you."

Snape nodded.

Again, they went down the secret tunnel toward the school. Again, Hermione left him near the entrance by the Whomping Willow. Again, she saw someone on the grounds but could only make out that it was a man. He seemed to be just walking around. On previous nightly observations, she had seen people looking for something. She returned with her usual report. Again, they waited filling the time with companionable silence and a little talk. Snape was not nearly as high strung as when they first tried getting into the castle; the fever had stolen most of his unnecessary combativeness. However, Snape would never be anything other than "high maintenance" when it came to relating to others. A couple of hours later, near midnight, she saw nothing and returned for Snape. The coast was clear, at long last!

"Get us to the far greenhouse, and we'll use my passageway into the castle's dungeons," he supplied. "Look around behind us as we go – on what had been the battlefield. If there are bodies still there, it likely means the Dark Lord has won."

"Why do you say that?"

"He has little respect for the living, let alone the dead. He would leave them as a totem to others who might seek to challenge his rule," Snape told her matter-of-factly.

"That's disgusting," was her reply.

Snape merely grunted his assent. Carefully, they exited the Whomping Willow and moved stealthily toward Snape's passageway. Once inside the castle, Hermione led him to his former quarters. The castle seemed vacant and abandoned, emptier than even holidays made it. She wondered where the people were that she had seen on those nights they had tried for the castle. For his part, Snape listened for any sounds that might indicate which side was in possession of the castle. His ears were becoming attuned to the dark in which he now found himself. He moved past his wards into his chambers.

"Sir, it did not look as if the battle moved inside. Nothing seems particularly out of place," Hermione indicated to him. "What kind of potion should I start to clear your eyes?"

Snape drank the potion for his fever and infections that she had offered him, and then he turned toward the sound of her voice and reached out a hand. She took it and stepped into a tentative embrace. His body was much cooler than it had been in days. Then, Hermione tightened her grip around his middle and tucked her head under his chin. She listened to the sounds of his heart beating and his breathing for a few moments. The steadiness of his body's rhythms served to instill calm in her heart.

Finally, he drew both his arms up around her and entangled his fingers in her bushy hair. He found an odd delight in playing with her unruly hair – hair that had identified her to him in the briar patch, hair that people had made fun of, hair that was so soft. It made him wish that he could still see. He wanted to know what her face looked like again. The terror of the loss of his sight had driven so many faces from his mind. Yet he dared not run his hand across her face; Snape did not desire to frighten her with an advance that was perhaps inappropriate and not wanted.

She noted that his heart was pounding now and breathing had both deepened and sped up; and she smiled, hoping it was her doing. Presently, she felt like a moth drawn to a flame as she took her own comfort in his cautious embrace. She drew her head back slightly and looked up into his face. For once, she found a majesty and beauty in it that she'd not ever seen before.

"Severus," she whispered his given name for the first time and moved to touch his lips with hers.

"Hermione," he moaned into her mouth as he pulled her closer to himself, covering her mouth with his own.

They deepened the kiss with the multiplicity of emotions that swirled around them. Each drew strength from the other's passion. The foreboding of fear began to lift in Snape's chest for the first time since he'd found himself going blind. He felt his energy returning. Neither could tell if it was fear or genuine attraction that prompted their joining, as if it mattered at that moment. Hands touched and explored; tongues and lips gave and received pleasure. They found a wonderful, delicious oneness in the moment. They softly danced their way across the room to his couch.

Soft moans of delight and sounds of passionate kisses from the other filled their souls. Hermione delighted in how he kissed her neck and the feel of his soft beard that had begun to grow in the last two weeks. He knew just how to brush it against her sensitive skin. She desperately wanted him as she had never wanted anyone else.

Snape responded to her gentle nibbles along his neck and her fingers racing to undo his shirt buttons. He felt his head tilt back involuntarily as he let out a moan this time of pure pleasure, which only served to encourage her further. Her hands and lips glided across his chest in a most magical way. He had never experiences such feelings before. She seemed actually to want him; and he knew he wanted her just as much, if not more.

"Hermione," he moaned close in her ear, "I want you. I need you. Make love with me tonight."

"I want nothing more or less than all of you," she tenderly stroked his face. "But, I have saved myself for marriage, Severus."

"Then on our wedding night," Snape purred in her other ear with a gentle nibble, "we will take and have each other."

When she did not tell him "no" to this backhanded proposal, he returned to kissing and caressing her for all he was worth, putting making love to her on the back burner. He would let her feel his desire with other body parts until that day when she would be wholly his and his alone. For her part, Hermione demonstrated that he was indeed most wanted and would one day be hers and only hers. Severus Snape was a man of the deepest passions, be it anger or desire. There was nothing half-hearted in this mystifying man.

They continued this way tenderly and passionately until Peeves broke in cackling.

"Peeves!" they shouted nearly in unison. "Go away!"

He bounced around a bit and cackled some more before leaving the same way he came.

"_Peevsie seeies! Peevsie seeies!"_

Snape lifted himself on his elbows just a bit, brushing just his fingertips across her face, his long hair tickling her nose and cheeks and with a deep, contented sigh said, "Hermione, it would appear that we are not as alone as we had imagined."

She moved her arms from his back to his chest, "That could be good or bad, depending…" she smiled. "How shall we approach this new turn of events?"

"Perhaps we should explore the castle. I'll go ahead of you, if you will be so good as to guide me forward. I may not be able to aim a curse, but I most certainly can defend against them," he moved off her, pulling on his coat but leaving it open along with his white shirt, which Hermione had unbuttoned. She quietly thought how sexually inviting he looked.

"I'm not sure I like that idea. I don't want to lose you, especially not now," Hermione let her hands run off his chest as he rose, making him purr with pleasure.

"Take my hand," he indicated with an outstretched palm.

She pulled up, briefly touching his chest once more, before leading him out into the hall beyond. They crept slowly and silently through the dungeon passages, making their way toward the Great Hall.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – The Prodigal Returneth 

The Bloody Baron remarked as he floated by, "Aha, the Prodigal returneth."

Hermione just glared at him and shooed him away.

"Lass, it will do you no good to try and rush me from my journey," he replied.

"She's my lass, Baron, and I will thank you to leave us alone," declared an annoyed Snape.

"You are no longer the Head of my House," began the Baron. "When you ran off, 'twas given to Horace Slughorn."

"I may be the Head of House again sooner than you think," snapped Snape. "And where is that charlatan, anyway?"

"Perhaps," replied the Baron, "then perhaps not. You'll find him later."

"Who controls the castle?" Hermione broke in, wanting to know. Then she continued, "That will determine who is your Head of House, good Baron."

"Very true, Lassie, very true," the Baron bowed before vanishing himself through a nearby wall.

"Oh, I hate it when they do that," an exasperated Hermione grumbled.

"Do what? Where is he?" Snape asked.

"Went through a wall. Guess he was not interested in answering our questions," she complained.

Snape felt his way along the wall to the stairs. Stairs were trickier than he had imagined. He had to feel each one; still he stumbled several times as they made their way to the Great Hall via the teacher's hallway. The whole process took much longer than he had planned. He did not like being so exposed if unfriendly forces of Death Eaters controlled the castle.

As they approached, Horace Slughorn floated by, causing Hermione to give a shocked response.

"Professor!" she gasped.

"Hmmm," Snape responded turning toward her.

"Not you, Severus," Hermione indicated. "It's Professor Slughorn! He's a ghost now!"

"Horace," began Snape. "What happened to you?"

Slughorn stopped and looked at Snape holding Hermione's hand, fingers interlaced with hers, "I could ask the same of you. Never saw you with a woman other than Lily. And your eyes, my boy! What happened to your eyes?"

"You first," prompted Snape.

"I told Dumbledore I did not want to come back and teach here, but he practically forced me out of retirement," complained Slughorn. "He knew I was in hiding from the Dark Lord."

"Which side got you?" inquired Hermione.

Slughorn turned his attention back to her, "Your side. It was your friend Arthur Weasley who stuck me down."

"So our side won?" Snape asked, holding Hermione's hand gently in his own.

"Depends on how you mean 'win' and 'our side,' now doesn't it?" he hinted. "So, my boy, what happened to you?"

"I was blinded, presumably by Bellatrix," he said, "Now, Horace, who won: Potter or the Dark Lord?"

"Neither, really," Slughorn mentioned casually.

"It's still war, then," Hermione sounded despairing, tucking herself closer to Snape for comfort.

"I'm afraid so," he responded.

"Who is left alive?" wondered Snape.

"I don't know, but both sides have withdrawn to regroup. The battle was simply terrible, simply terrible!"

"Thank you, Professor," offered Hermione.

Slughorn nodded and drifted off.

Snape leaned against a wall. His shoulders drooped. Instinctively, he reached out for Hermione. She cuddled up next to him again.

"Guess we know whose side Slughorn was on. I wonder who is in control of St Mungo's," she mumbled. "We need to get your eyes seen to and soon."

"I should have asked Slughorn if any living people are in the castle or if it has been abandoned by both sides," he sounded despondent.

"I doubt he'd have told us anything since he was on the other side. Let's keep looking. We can always ask the next ghost or portrait we come to," she squeezed him gently.

Snape nodded but tugged her hand back to himself.

He hesitated a little longer, "No, never mind. Not yet. Let's go."

He pushed off the wall and took Hermione's elbow again. She gave him a curious look but decided against asking what that was all about. Half an hour later, they had explored the main floor and found not a living soul. Even the other ghosts were nowhere to be found.

Hermione suggested they inquire of the Fat Lady of Gryffindor Tower, and Snape consented. However, the Fat Lady knew nothing of any use. Thus it was that Snape suggested they head for the Headmistress's office. He hoped the passwords had not been radically altered. When they arrived, the griffin was open but the stairs no longer moved upward. Hermione led Snape carefully upward.

"Hermione, take me to the Headmaster's portrait, please," requested Snape.

He stood in front of Dumbledore's sleeping portrait, "Tell me what you see."

"He's asleep," she replied.

He called out, "Headmaster. I need to speak with you."

Phineas Nigellus responded in Dumbledore's stead, "He cannot hear you, but then you know that, don't you, Severus."

A smile of relief began to play across Snape's features. He reached out for Hermione who brought her hand up quickly. He held her close to himself.

"What does he mean?" she needed to know.

"It means we are not alone," he replied with a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It means we are not alone."

"Is that what you were debating telling me downstairs, just now?"

He nodded his head, "To my potions laboratory."

He locked the door behind them and both applied wards that secured the space from unwelcome intruders.

"If you would not mind too much, call for a house elf for something to eat," Snape directed Hermione. "I know how you feel about their enslavement, but we need them presently."

She nodded, "Of course. Dobby! Winky!"

A pair of pops produced two house elves, Dobby and another elf that Hermione did not know.

"Oh, Mister Harry Potter was so very worried about you Missie!" Dobby squeaked. "He is looking for you for days!"

"Where is Harry?" she desperately wanted to know. "Is he alright?"

"Oh, yes, Missie. Dobby saw him after the big battle out on the grounds," replied Dobby. "The mean ones left their dead and wounded. Master Malfoy is dead now. But, Dobby knows they comes back and fights again with Mister Harry Potter."

"And what of the others?" asked Snape.

"Oh, Dobby saw the whole thing. It was terrible. When it was finished, Dobby wanted to iron his ears." Even then he began to bang his head.

"Enough of that, where are the others?" yelled Snape in frustration, flailing around trying to grasp the house elf.

"Safe," Dobby ducked his head and began to bang it on a table again.

"Fix us something to eat, please, Dobby," Hermione asked softly as she took his head away from the table. "Oh, and Dobby, where is Winky?"

"Winky killed herself by jumping in front of a curse meant for Mister Weasley," with a pop Dobby and new friend were gone.

"Hermione, I need you to be my eyes," Snape started. "My private storeroom…" he led her across the room to a wall and uttered the appropriate charm to reveal a door.

"What are we going to be brewing, Severus?" she wanted to know.

"The counteracting potion to the one that made the Headmaster appear to have died at my hand," he indicated.

Hermione froze, "You mean he's not dead? Then why did we talk to his portrait just now?"

"I needed to know if he was still alive in the crypt or not. If his portrait awakens, his body dies," Snape began to try and feel his way in the lab. "The curse that destroyed his hand could have easily taken his life. I had not wanted to do it, but he was insistent. I warned him that he could die…but he insisted."

"Here, let me do that," Hermione offered. "What ingredients do you need?" She paused, "But now you know he's not dead at all. His pensieve showed us you were not guilty of killing him but said nothing of his still being alive."

Dobby and the other elf had returned with food then disappeared again. Snape and Hermione were at a good spot to stop long enough to eat a real meal and to take baths as the first part of the potion simmered in his lab. Snape soaked his weary body in a potion bath to help draw out more of the infection. He did not shave the beginning of the beard since discovering how much Hermione enjoyed it. He would keep it trimmed for her pleasure alone.

Next Hermione bathed quickly and redressed in transfigured cloths. She had her hair wrapped in a towel when she reemerged from Snape's bedroom. A smile flickered across his face when her scent teased his nose. He stood and beckoned her to him.

"What's this?" he queried, feeling the towel.

Gently, he unwrapped it letting her hair fall loose about her shoulders. He took it in his now fully healed hands and savoured its scent and texture.

"Ah, Hermione," he purred, "_You_ have ensnared my senses."

She ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders then to his jaws, "Severus, I never would have suspected…"

A lingering kiss opened the rest of the work ahead of them. Snape would tell her the ingredients and how to prepare them. His fingers and nose would decide if they were correct. One by one, they went into the caldron.

"Should we survive this war, I would be honoured if you would become my wife when we are free, and my apprentice when you've completed your Arithmancy apprenticeship," Snape offered.

"Happily…but have you ever had an apprentice before?" she wondered.

"No. I never found any student with the aptitude let alone temperament to deal with me," he smirked. "You, however, are a jewel beyond comparison."

"You're just saying that," she teased him.

Snape stopped and tried to look in her direction, "No, Hermione. I never joke about these things. You follow directions precisely. Potion making is at its core precision with a helping of innovation on the side."

"I'm sorry, Severus," she began. "I thought it was because…you know."

"Because I'm in lust with you and have asked you to marry me? Which I might note that you assented to," an eyebrow twitched upward and a smirk played across his features.

"Yes," Hermione responded.

"Do you seriously think I'd compromise the Headmaster's life if I had no real confidence in you?" Snape questioned her.

"Well, no…"

"Good. Then it's settled. We will marry as soon as we get back to our own side, then when you finish with Arithmancy, you will become a Potions Mistress," he said with authority. "I have master's credentials in more than one area myself. It will not be unheard of, should you desire the same. It may be slightly more difficult for you to be my wife though," he chuckled.

Hermione smiled and shook her head at him, glad for the moment that he could not see the bemused look on her face. She was not too sure that she wanted to race into marriage, but denying Severus Snape once his mind was set on something was even more difficult to imagine. And she did find him alluring. Once the caldron was simmering again, she led him back to the sitting room. She conjured them some tea and biscuits.

Snape listened to the rhythm of her movements and smiled inwardly. He made his mind up that he would make this marriage work – albeit he had nothing to go off of since his parents were absolute disasters as role models. Maybe he'd talk to Arthur since he and Molly, poor as church mice, seemed to have a highly functional, loving marriage. Finally, she finished and returned to sit next to him. Her damp hair spread across his chest as she nestled comfortably into his arms.

"Severus, what is it with you and feelings?" she bluntly asked.

He knew that questions would come sooner or later. So Snape closed his eyes a moment, then, "Mine was not a close or loving family. By now you know I am a half-blood. Mother was a pureblood witch and father, a Muggle. She loved him, but once he discovered what she was, his love for her ended abruptly. He felt trapped and let me know that feelings were what had caused his misery.

"Father never wanted me and told me so frequently. He was quite afraid of our world and that I would be like her. They had horrible fights, nearly every night. The letter from Hogwarts sent him over the edge. He killed her and I was left as an orphan when he went to one of those Muggle places for the criminally insane. Mercifully, I had Hogwarts. As terribly as it could be, it was better than living alone at Spinner's End."

His hand ran gently up and down her arms. His fingernails teased her senses.

Hermione rose a bit and touched his cheek, "That's terrible. How could he not want his son, regardless if he was a wizard, or not!"

"He beat me to make sure that I would never display any feelings, no matter what. 'Feelings are bad things that cause you pain,' he would tell me," he concluded.

"Do you feel that way now? Am I causing you pain?" Hermione needed to know.

"Not yet," he kissed her locks. "Not yet. But you will."

"Why on earth would you say that!" she leaned forward to look him in the face. "I would never hurt you, Severus!"

"Hermione," his voice was soft and silky, "you are so very young and I am so much older than you." His fingertips searched out her face, "One thing you will learn, as you grow older, is that you hurt the ones you love the most or who love you the most. There is simply no way around it."

"Is that why you don't let people in?" she returned to his chest.

"Mmm," his voice rumbled through his chest, tickling her ears and heart. "Something like that, I suppose. I had enough of hurt to last me a lifetime and then some. Some I brought down on my own head and others besides…"

"First it was your Mum. Then Lily?" she asked tenderly.

"Yes, Lily," he sighed. "It was because of me that she died. But then I suppose Potter told you all that."

"Harry really did not say anything other than he hated you for killing Sirius and Professor Dumbledore and all the humiliations of class. And I never could figure out why he blamed you for Sirius' death, but he did. Anyhow, I was just putting the puzzle pieces together. Slughorn said that he never saw you with a girl except Lily. Harry was murderously furious with you when he found out that you had told You-Know-Who about the prophecy," she proceeded to describe her reasoning.

"Yes, and by the time I knew that it was Lily whom I had betrayed, it was too late to do anything about it other than throw myself at the mercy of the Headmaster," he followed up.

"So why do you hate Harry?" Hermione wanted to know.

"I don't hate him... I resent him," Snape confessed. "He looks so much like his father James. James, I hate. James Potter and Sirius Black were unforgivably cruel to me when we were here as students. Black tried to get me killed one full moon when Lupin was transformed. At the last minute, James stepped up, and I was suddenly in his debt. When Lily was killed by the Dark Lord, I bound myself to protect Harry as repayment of the life debt I owed James."

"Is it Harry you resent, or that Harry should have been your son not James's that you resent?" she asked ever so softly.

He thought a moment, then Snape shook his head, "Not sure."

"So, why did they treat you so badly?"

"I suppose because they could," he went on. "They were popular and I was an outcast, a bookish kid with a flair for the dark arts and who never really fit in – not even in Syltherin. Girls fell all over themselves trying to get James or Black to notice them. Harry is the same if you hadn't noticed. Girls avoided me unless they needed help with homework. It's not as if I'm a pleasure to look at, you know. In a word, I'm ugly. It makes me wonder why you are here with me."

"I guess it's because I don't think you are ugly. No, you're not handsome by some women's standards, but you are brilliant. I put more stock into brains than I do looks anyhow. Right here and right now, I know you to be tender and caring. This is a side I've never seen you display before. I like it – a lot! I hope you never hide that part of you from me again. Besides, it's not as if I'm a stellar beauty either. As I recall, you don't like my teeth…" she teased.

He half smiled, "Let me rethink that one," as he leaned in for a long and lusty kiss. His tongue ran over her teeth and snaked its way around her mouth. She moaned with pleasure. "Hmm. I think I just changed my mind. I rather enjoy your mouth just as it is."

Hermione giggled, "I thought as much."

They nestled together on the couch in the peace and quiet of genuine companionship. It was late enough that slipping into a comfortable sleep was certainly not out of the question either. The potion had hours yet to brew. Snuggled together for sleep was routine and reassuring now; however, a pounding at Snape's door made them both jump. Immediately Snape's wand was out as Hermione leapt from his chest.

"Hide in the laboratory, Hermione, while I see who is there," Snape directed.

"How are you going to 'see' anything, Severus?" she said quietly so as not to offend.

"All right, behind me then. And stay there," he demanded.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – A Friendly Knock at the Door 

"Identify yourself," bellowed Snape.

"Harry, sir. It's Harry Potter!" came the muffled voice from beyond the door.

"How do I know it's you not some polyjuice you?"

"You hate me, sir, almost as much as you hated my Dad. Dobby said that you and Hermione were here and…"

The door opened to reveal Harry, Ron, and Molly Weasley. Molly rushed forward and took Hermione in her arms.

"You dear child!" she exclaimed.

"I'm really fine, Molly," Hermione laughed. "Professor Snape has taken good care of me as I have of him."

Molly looked at Snape with narrowed eyes, "Severus…"

Snape turned toward her, lowering his wand.

Instantly her hand flew to her face, "Oh Severus, your eyes!"

"I think it was Bellatrix's doing," he commented coldly. Turning a little to where he thought Harry was standing, "I understand I am in your debt, Potter. You repaired the damage done me by..."

"Malfoy. Yes sir. But I had no idea about your eyes," Harry spoke softly.

"Nor did I until the battle was nearly over. I had crawled into a thicket near the edge of the Forest and lost consciousness again. Hermione was catapulted on top of me. She has been my sight since then," Snape replied.

"Now, let's get you to St. Mungo's and see if they can restore your sight," Molly commented.

"Not yet. Hermione and I have work to do here before we can be worried about my sight," Snape added.

"Nonsense!" Molly reprimanded him. "What if You-Know-Who comes back here? The two of you are completely unprotected. You can't fight without being able to see your attacker. The Order can't stand for that! We thought we'd lost you two once, not again. No."

"I'm in the middle of something here, Molly," he tried directing his voice toward where he thought she was standing.

Then he heard her from a different part of the room, "You see, you can't even follow me. I think the two of you need to be with us. We can take whatever you need back to headquarters. You can finish it there."

"I shall have to begin it again. It's a potion that if disturbed will become unstable and useless," he complained again in what he thought was her direction.

This time her voice was right in front of him taking him by surprise, "No Severus. We will not compromise your safety or that of Hermione. We'll take you to headquarters instead and see if we can restore your sight. You can brew there instead of here. If not, it's to St. Mungo's with you. Take what ingredients you need and let's be off."

Molly took his arm while Harry took Hermione's as Ron joined the four. Snape turned to the caldron and ended the potion with a grump. Molly used a port key, getting them to outside Grimmauld Place. Harry led the way inside. Remus was nursing a broken shoulder but delighted nonetheless to see both his friends alive and reasonably well. Mrs. Black made her usual loud insults about Hermione's heritage.

"Enough!" shouted Snape at Mrs. Black. "She's with me. Leave her be, Madam."

"I'll have you know…" Mrs. Black began again.

Snape rolled up his sleeve and displayed the Dark Mark for her to see, "I said 'Enough!'"

She was brought to stillness, turning away. His hands felt for the frame around Mrs. Black. Then he cast a silencing charm about the portrait.

"Hermione?" he searched for her.

"Right here, Severus," she took his outstretched hand and placed it on her arm as they headed for the kitchen.

Harry cocked an eyebrow toward Ron who looked positively dejected. Ron never imagined that he'd lose Hermione to Snape; Krum maybe, but never Snape, the greasy git who was so much older than she.

"So tell us what happened at the battle," Hermione wanted to know as Poppy Pomfrey took her first look at Snape's injuries.

Harry began, "I saw Malfoy Senior, hit Snape, sorry, Professor Snape, with the _sectumsempra_ curse from the back at the same time something else hit you. I saw you fall, sir. When I could break free, I did what I could to stop the bleeding, at least. The next time I looked up, you were gone.

"When darkness fell, Voldemort, I mean 'he,' and his Death Eaters pulled back. He left a host of his dead and wounded behind. We took the majority of the critically injured on both sides to Hogwarts Hospital Wing or St. Mungo's. By the next day, we evacuated Hogwarts as Professor Dumbledore's wards were no longer in place.

"The walking wounded were being treated in the Great Hall as they staggered in. The Death Eaters who could be were sent to Azkaban to await trials. There are still a couple left at St. Mungo's."

Ron added his part, "We almost had him trapped between the two of us when he sent a signal into the air. The ones who could still fight got away."

Molly continued the story; "We looked for you both for since the battle when we did not find you among the dead and wounded. We figured you had taken shelter in the Forbidden Forest or on the grounds somewhere. After a week, we had rather given up that phase of the search, thinking that maybe 'he' had you both. Nevertheless, we kept looking for you two."

"Who is left?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Most of the Order lived. We did have some bad injuries," added Lupin. "Lucius Malfoy was killed. It was suicide really. He was surrounded but refused to put down his wand. I guess he did not want to go back to Azkaban. And, Bellatrix LeStrange is still out there somewhere."

"Having spent time there, I can fully appreciate that," Snape raised an eyebrow. Sensing a sudden hush, "Yes, Potter. I went to Azkaban before the Headmaster retrieved me and redeemed me."

Remus picked up the thread again, "Wormtail fell in the fight. He took a _cruciatas _and then the _avada kedavra_ for Harry. So I guess you could say that Peter paid his life debt to Harry in full!"

"Kingsley did not make it through the fight," added a sad Molly. "Moody is still in St.Mungo's."

"Which is where we need to get you," Poppy declared. "I cannot treat you here. You will need a curse breaker and more sophisticated potions if you are to recover your sight. I can get rid of the rest of that nasty ongoing infection while you are here." She rummaged through her bag and produced a vial of potion, "Drink this, Severus."

He curled his lip as he swallowed his own potion, "I must add something to improve the flavour of this," he muttered.

Poppy mused, "Taste of your own medicine…"

He sneered with one eyebrow cocked in response.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – The Dark Lord Responds 

Snape spent the next two months at St. Mungo's receiving treatment for the multiple curses that Bellatrix had hit him with. Hermione would read to him out of the most recent potions journals. He continued to help her improve her game of wizard chess. While both desired the intimacy of the abandoned castle or even the Shrieking Shack, there simply was no place away from prying eyes to deepen the relationship. To protect both their reputations from gossip, they elected to say nothing. However, Hermione's daily visits did prompt mild curiosity from her friends.

One evening after she returned from hospital, Ginny wanted to know, "What do you see in Snape that we've all apparently missed?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked as she brushed out her hair.

"You and Snape are seeing an awfully lot of one another. You are sweet on him, aren't you?" Ginny said as she sat on the end of her bed.

"Maybe I am," Hermione confided carefully. "And if I am?"

"We all know that he's brilliant and so are you. Are you in love with him or just his mind? Is that it?" Ginny probed further.

"I never said I was in love with him, Ginny," Hermione countered.

"You don't have to. I've seen how you look at him. We've all seen how much he depends on you and trusts you. He never has trusted anyone but Professor Dumbledore, and he killed him! Nobody can reason with Snape except you. He's always been so snarky; he's a hard man to be around," Ginny continued.

"He's still snarky," Hermione laughed. "He's nearly gotten himself thrown out of St. Mungo's half a dozen times already for bad behaviour."

Ginny let go a deep breath and laughed with her dear friend, "Would not surprise me in the least."

"But when he wants to be, he can be quite kind and devoted," Hermione teased her best friend. "He just has to want to."

"Is he a good kisser?" Ginny pried.

"I'll never tell," Hermione shot back. "Time for bed and no more questions."

"Okay, but he better treat you well, or he'll have my whole family to deal with, you know that, don't you!" Ginny declared. "I guess I can live with you loving Snape, if that's what you really, really want. I had wanted you as a sister, married to Ron one day…"

"Deep down, Severus is a good man…mostly," Hermione slipped under the covers. "He's just really terribly defensive and a touch paranoid, and that makes him seem cold. He hides behind that cold exterior. But really he's not. Mind you, he's no softie, but he is kind and gentle when he feels safe enough to be himself. Oh, I could never marry Ron or Harry, for that matter. They are too much like brothers to me!"

About one month into his treatment, word leaked out that Snape was at St. Mungo's. Voldemort sent Death Eaters after him to recapture him or kill him in place if need be. Even a sightless Snape was more than a match for three Death Eaters. He literally smelled Crabbe, Goyle, and Padgett. Snape had stuffed his wand under his pillow and thus was able to pull it out and cast several protective spells before aurors came and finished the job.

His offensive spells had hits and misses. The misses blew walls out. The Chief Healer nearly put him out for that transgression. Padgett and Goyle died in the fight while Crabbe surrendered and was taken to Azkaban. The fight lasted an interminable five minutes. When Molly and Hermione found out what had occurred, they voted for moving Snape to headquarters where he'd be safer. The rest of the healers vetoed the idea, so the Ministry provided more aurors to protect him.

However over time, Snape had become so belligerent that the healers threatened to dismiss him without a cure. He nearly took them up on the offer several times until Hermione interceded. A wee bit more inconvenience for him was worth his sight, she decided as he acquiesced gritting his teeth as he did. Despite all those weeks, hundreds of treatments, and hoped-for cures, nothing concrete developed. Snape could see only the brightest of light. Only the colour had returned to his eyes but not sight. So, the healers finally decided to release him for a respite…their own relief as well as his.

The Order assembled at breakfast; fresh from hospital, Snape joined them for a change of pace. He was pleasantly surprised to find that they were genuinely happy to have him back. He had expected a chilly reception after the Astronomy Tower incident even though he had fed them information about horcrux locations. He wondered if Hermione had anything to do with it. He'd investigate the matter later in the day.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – Snape's Greatest Ally 

Indeed, mid-morning he found her in the library of the headquarters. He had become fairly proficient in navigating the house on Grimmauld by himself, no longer quite so dependent on Hermione. Snape decided to force himself to be as open as he could be around Hermione, but no one else. He was still not a trusting soul, likely never would be.

"Hermione?"

She smiled happily up at him, taking in the deepest darkness of his still sightless eyes, "It's so good to have you back," she nestled into his chest.

For a brief moment, he held her then tilted her head toward his face and "saw" her with his fingertips, "I just don't know… You are such a beautiful young woman. I still don't know why you would want an old wreck like me."

"Well, I do," she snuggled herself back against his chest; she loved to hear his heart beating.

"Did you have something to do with the pleasant reception I got when I returned?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No, not at all. Maybe they were as happy to see you alive and still on our side. Has it ever occurred to you that people just might like you if you would give them a chance?"

"Afraid not," he mused. "Few have ever liked me. I'm not a very nice man. I'm rather cruel and mean."

"I attribute a terribly lot of that to self-protection. I've seen a side of you that I rather take pleasure in being around. I hope that Severus does not disappear just because the mean side of you can move about this house without me," she gave a heartfelt reply. "You don't need me as you did when we were marooned in Hogsmeade or the castle."

He was going to say something then thought better of it. While he did not know what to make of Hermione's affections, he most certainly was not about to do or say something to turn her against him. This experience of being wanted stimulated his senses in novel ways.

"Will you help me learn to trust, and yes, love?" he inquired. "For I do think I do still need you."

"I'll always give you my best, Severus. Always my best," Hermione reassured him.

He tilted her face back toward his. His eyes penetrated her very soul. Even sightless, those eyes no longer seemed so devoid of humanity to Hermione as they had ten years ago when she first encountered the feared teacher.

"I think that you are good for me," he whispered, drawing closer for a tender kiss. "Help me to stop playing the spy when we are together."

"I have not told anyone what you were brewing back at the school when they rescued us," Hermione told him in between kisses.

"It's time to let them know that we do have another ally, but we must make sure that the Dark Lord cannot find out," he started. "Now how to accomplish that…"

"You and I could go back," she mused.

"No. I will not risk you," he held her tenderly, pulling her ever closer.

"Severus, don't smother me," Hermione stood up for herself by pulling back just a little bit.

Then he pulled back and took her face into his hands. He searched her visage with sightless eyes but sighted fingers.

"It's all right," she gave him permission. "I'm not sure it will work if you still don't have sight, but I'll try. _Legilimens_," she mouthed.

Hermione took a quick breath as she moved into his mind with no resistance. She wanted to caress him tenderly as well as set the boundaries for her own life. He stroked her mind tenderly and wrapped his mind around hers. She felt an indescribable sense of desire, curiosity, admiration, and love emanating from him. She felt his unbounded joy at seeing her with his mind's eyes.

His hands continued to caress her face. Hermione returned to him all her respect, deepest love, and her own desire for him. She let him know that, for her, it was more than lust or fear in moments of sheer terror. He ended the spell with a kiss, sealing that moment in time forever for them both. It had begun tenderly but turned passionate quickly thereafter.

He found himself whispering in her ear, "Make no mistake, Hermione, I love you, no matter what comes our way. Always remember that I loved you fully from this moment onward until I breathe my last. I want to protect you and keep you as safe as I possibly can."

She moaned, "And I love you, Severus Snape. I will never let you go for as long as I live. I want you to be out of danger, or at least with me there, at your side when you face it."

He rested his chin on her head, "Ah, we both want the same thing – absolute protection for the other. Neither of us may get what we want, if the Dark Lord has his way."

Hermione's arms were wrapped tightly around him. She sighed softly against his chest.

"Maybe not, but I'm going to give it my Gryffindor best," she murmured. "Perhaps we should get married now, before the final battle. I would hate not to and things turn out badly for us."

"Are you sure, Hermione? If we survive, wizard marriages are for a lifetime, you know," he cautioned. "If we survive, you are stuck with me. I'm not an easy person to be around, let alone live with."

"You keep telling me that, but I'm young enough to still believe in fairy tales," she cooed.

"Harrumph. I guess it's 'Beauty and the Beast' then," he ran his hand sensually across her back. "The only thing is, I won't turn into a handsome, but vain, prince in the end, you know."

"I know what I'm in for. I sat for seven years in your classes and have already signed up to apprentice with you," Hermione retorted. "If I had no clue how harsh you can be…or how tender, I'd have to agree with you."

That evening, the Order gathered around the table for dinner and planning. Snape was included and sat next to Hermione. When dinner was finished, he planned to make his announcement.

"Arthur," he began, "I have two things I'd like to ask of you."

Arthur smiled, even as he knew Snape could not see it, "Go ahead, Severus. What can I do for you?"

"First, Hermione and I would be terribly grateful if you would perform the wedding bonding ceremony for us. The sooner, the better," he started.

Gasps and then cheers erupted around the table. Snape jumped as he felt slaps on the back coming from all around him. After a few, he could not stop a smile from making its presence known across his face. That raised the level of merriment and lightheartedness all around the Order. Even Moody rose to shake his hand and congratulate him. In a few minutes as things began to die down, Harry stepped forward.

"Professor, you know that Hermione is like a sister to me," Harry offered. "And if she accepts you, then I accept you," Harry took Snape's hand in his.

Snape rose and did the unexpected. He clasped Harry's right shoulder with his left hand. He nodded. Harry moved closer and clasped Snape on the back and then moved away. Before Snape could sit back down, Ron also took his hand.

"Looks like Hermione has made her choice, Professor," he cleared his throat. "I just hope that you will always treat her right. If you don't…"

Snape gave half a smile, "I know…the Weasley men will be after me with blodgers and bats."

Everyone present had a good laugh, including Ron. Ron leaned over and kissed Hermione on the cheek.

"You know I always figured that it would be you and me, Hermione," he said sadly. "And I'm kicking myself for not having made my move early enough."

"Ron, it's okay, really. I understand," Hermione replied. "You may not want me as a friend, but I'll be here if you do."

"Right," he mumbled in reply.

"Arthur," Snape reached out for Hermione, "we'd greatly appreciate this sooner rather than later."

"Understood. Will tomorrow be soon enough?" Arthur smiled. "And what was the other thing you needed?"

Hermione started, "Perfect. We would like to go back to Hogwarts for that potion we left behind."

Molly gave them a funny look, "I thought you said it was spoiled?"

Snape continued, "It is. I need two trusted men and" he gently squeezed Hermione's hand, "Hermione to finish the potion."

"Why?" Arthur was curious.

"I'd prefer not to say, other than it will help our cause," Snape gave the matter a sound of finality.

"I'll go with you," Bill volunteered.

"As will I, "Arthur finished the team.

The next morning, Snape was led to the garden in Grimmauld Place by Remus Lupin. Lupin was chosen to be the "Best Man" for his old classmate. Hermione was escorted by Harry, the closest thing she had to a real brother. Ron watched with sullen despair. Ginny stood with her. Molly cried tears of joy from her spot as the stand-in "Mother of the Bride." Arthur served as bonder. With a simple ceremony, in the midst of war, Severus Snape took a bride. It would not make the headlines of the _Daily Prophet_, but it was certainly surprising news about one of the chief curmudgeons of the Wizarding World. After the war, a formal announcement would appear in both the _Daily Prophet_ and _The Quibbler_.

Molly had rearranged the sleeping arrangements one more time to accommodate a newlywed couple. She extended a corner overlooking the garden, off by itself for them. She added a functional, albeit Spartan, bath for them to share. Having been a Gryffindor herself, she chose red and gold for the principal colours. She added a few hints of Slytherin green and silver in the event Snape ever regained his sight. Hermione was very pleased with Molly's efforts.

Hermione led her new husband to their chamber after a short festive banquet that the twins helped to organize. Surprisingly, there were no gags. Either Molly had threatened them with pain worse than death if they pulled any pranks; or they decided that in order to honour Hermione, there would be no jokes. It was not that they did not respect their former Potions Master; it was that they were never quite sure how to take him. They respected him greatly for his skill in making potions, for it was, after all, potions that made many of their jokes work. They owed him that at the very least. And, yet, his personality was such that it was generally too much work to get to know him and thus feel a personal connection to the severe man. Fred and George loved Hermione, even if she had not chosen their brother for her husband.

Hermione dimmed the lights as they swiftly undressed each other. They picked up where they had left off in his quarters at Hogwarts weeks before. He waved the sheets back with his bare hand. Clothes were strewn about the room as the lovers fell across the welcoming bed.

"Severus," Hermione whispered as she ran her hands through his now filled-out beard, "I love your beard. Did you know that?"

"Um-hum," he purred as he ran his fingers through her hair. "I had a sense that you did, so I did not shave it off when they took me to St. Mungo's. It was one of many things I 'debated' with the healers while I was there."

She cooed, "You are really quite thoughtful when you try."

He shivered as she ran her fingernails across his scalp. He growled with pleasure to let her know.

"O woman, you have no idea what you do to me," he ran his nose behind her ear and lavished her neck with kisses. "I want you. I need you."

"Show me, Severus, show me what I do to you," Hermione cried. "I need and love you more than anyone else!"

It was pure music to his ears and the rest of him as she guided him to where he needed to be. It was a perfect fit for them both. Hours later, Hermione's mane splayed across his naked chest as he fiddled with the runaway curls. She raked her nails sensually across the wisps of hair she found between his nipples. His breathing and heartbeat indicated to her that there was more to this night yet to come. She raised herself on one elbow and began to initiate the lovemaking. After the lovemaking had subsided, Hermione wanted to begin a new conversation.

"Shhh. Hermione. When a man makes love to his woman, he does not want conversation as an after thought. He wants to just lie here next to her and get a good sleep," he hushed her with gentle fingers to her lips. "You would do well to remember that from here on."

That came out a bit more harshly than Snape had intended; however, Hermione shook her head with a slight smile playing across her lips, then she nestled herself into the crook of his arm and listened to his heart beating.

Morning came and went without a sign of the couple. Molly had ordered everyone away from the bride's chamber unless they called for Kreacher and food. Tea and biscuits were ordered in mid-afternoon. Finally, they came to dinner. Snape looked different. Bill was the one who figured it out – Snape's perpetual scowl was not in evidence. He actually looked as relaxed as Snape could look without looking happy. Snape was after all still Snape. On the other hand, Hermione was obviously madly in love with her husband of a few hours.

Bill and Arthur prepared the foursome for their trip to Hogwarts castle. He had portkeys prepared for them. Wands drawn, they took hold of the portkey and reappeared in the Great Hall, which stood just as empty as when Hermione and Snape had been there last. They threaded their way back to Snape's laboratory. Many hours later, the potion would be completed and ready to use.

"So Severus, what is this potion supposed to do," Arthur asked as he examined the sparkling wine coloured, viscous liquid.

"It will counteract the Draught of the Living Death and what spells the Headmaster and I performed on the Astronomy Tower," he took Hermione's hand. "Shall we restore the Headmaster now?"

Arthur's jaw dropped as did Bill's. Hermione beamed up at her husband.

"You knew, Hermione?" asked Bill.

She nodded, "I did. I could not say anything until Severus was able to finish the potion."

"Enough," Snape interjected. "We need to get this done and return to headquarters. There is much yet to do, if we are to be victorious."

They stole across the grounds to the mausoleum where Dumbledore had been resting. Arthur and Bill opened the tomb and sarcophagus. Snape gave Hermione the potion and his directions. He uttered the spell's counter as Hermione administered the potion they had just finished.

"Nothing's happening," exclaimed Bill sullenly.

"Be patient," Hermione added before Snape could make the same observation.

Arthur felt for a pulse and smiled, "I think he's alive…"

Dumbledore's eyes opened, "Of course, I am."

Dumbledore wanted to know as he stretched his hands upward, "Harry? Is Harry safe?"

"Yes, Headmaster," came the reply from Snape.

"Severus, and what of Draco?"

Snape's head drooped, "I do not know, Headmaster."

"The war is not over," Arthur remarked.

"Severus, you were to awaken me after the war," Dumbledore chided him.

"Headmaster, it is as you say, but…" Snape began.

"Things have changed," Bill interjected.

"How so?"

"Snape's blind for one," Bill remarked off-handedly.

"The 'final battle' was not as final as we had planned," Snape supplied.

Dumbledore rose from the crypt and looked straight at Snape, "You know that I am not to have a role in the final battle. It was why we staged the Astronomy Tower. Harry must stand on his own to defeat Voldemort once for all time. Explain your thinking, Severus."

"Yes, Headmaster, I understand," Snape's sightless eyes were downcast. "However, I have become incapacitated. I can no longer see." He lifted his head in the general direction of Dumbledore and continued, "I cannot help the boy as once I could. After it appeared that I had killed you, the boy's hatred for me knew no bounds. It was increasingly more and more difficult to assist him. His respect for you and Hermione was greater than his hatred for me or we would both have been lost."

He continued, "Moreover, we need you now more than having you remain hidden here if the boy is to overcome the Dark Lord. Neither could I afford to leave you in the power of the Draught of the Living Death any longer without risk to your life, Headmaster. The war has dragged about far longer than either of us anticipated. We were at the edge of safely reviving you, even today."

"Severus, what happened? How were you blinded?"

"Bellatrix blinded me in what should have been the final battle. I crawled off to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. We, Hermione and I, were isolated and knew not who won if anyone had," Snape began a disjointed recounting of the events. "I was completely debilitated for a fortnight before we were found by the Order. Then St. Mungo's held me for months. To leave you in the crypt any longer was to risk your life."

"Enough," Dumbledore started, "We must return to Headquarters before word gets out about my resuscitation. We will figure out what to do next."

Arthur extended the portkey, "In any event, Albus, it is good to have you back!"

Molly screamed and dropped the dishes in her hands when she saw Dumbledore. Harry and Lupin came running from different directions, wands outstretched, and stopped cold when they saw him standing with Arthur and the others. Harry unfroze and stretched out his free hand to touch Dumbledore's beard. Dumbledore looked kindly at Harry as Harry took hold of the Headmaster's right arm. He raised it to look upon the hand that had been nearly destroyed by the ring horcrux.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said softly, "It's really me."

Harry's lower lip began to quiver as he looked from Dumbledore to Snape and back again. Harry's shoulders slumped forward as Dumbledore took the boy into his arms and held him as the boy cried.

"I'm sorry we had to deceive you, especially you, of all the students," Dumbledore began to explain.

"Buy why?" Harry was not sure of anything any more, much less his feelings.

"We had to put Voldemort off his game. He had to think he was facing you alone. Arrogance is his weakness. Professor Snape was always there to protect you in my absence," he added more to the story.

"But he hates me and I hate him. You knew I hated him. He let Sirius die. He killed you…" Harry's words stumbled forward.

"Harry, Professor Snape never hated you," Dumbledore offered.

"Headmaster…perhaps I could…" Snape requested.

"Go ahead, Severus."

"Potter, it's true I despised your father. As you know, he and I were to one another as you and Draco are to each other – mortal enemies. I made a horrible mistake about the prophecy. It got your mother and father killed. It also put the Dark Lord down for years," Snape began and stopped, thinking…lost in the past.

He shook his head, "Your mother's death especially hung heavily about my head for these years. It's true: your father's death did not bother me in the least as there was no love lost between us. But you, I never hated you. Hermione has helped me understand it has been resentment I feel for you," Snape continued.

"Resentment?!" Harry exploded. "You have never had the first nice thing to say to me – ever! You put Hermione and me down every chance you got when we were in school. You took up Draco's cause every chance you got – even when he betrayed us all! Your Slytherins could do no wrong, and Gryffindors could do no right! We all thought you were trying to get the Philosopher's Stone. You hated Sirius and you let him die in the Ministry. You killed Professor Dumbledore! You betrayed us all!"

Dumbledore stepped up, "Harry, you can see with your own eyes that I am quite alive. It is thanks to Severus that this is so. Had he not brewed the potions and placed me under the effects of the Draught of the Living Death, I would have died from the horcrux's dark magic. And Harry, Sirius' death was partly your fault. Had you remained at school as you had been told to do and not sought out Voldemort on his own terms, perhaps Sirius would have survived. Then again, perhaps Ministry aurors would have hunted him down. We do not know nor will we. Speculating on it is a waste of energy."

"Headmaster," Severus turned toward the voice, "Let the boy hate me if he wishes to. If it gives him the power to defeat the Dark Lord, so be it."

"No, Severus," Dumbledore spoke softly, "The truth and love are what Harry must learn to exercise to defeat Voldemort. Hate is Voldemort's weapon, not Harry's."

Snape bowed his head slightly.

"Now what has been done for your eyes?" Dumbledore asked.

Bill described the curse breaking aspects of the non-cure. Snape outlined the potions they had tried and failed. Arthur detailed the attempt on Snape's life at St. Mungo's. Then Hermione and Molly filled in the personal blanks, including the wedding in the garden. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled when he heard his friend had allowed himself to be found by love at long last.

The next day, Dumbledore began occlumency lessons with Harry whose opinion of Snape had moderated only the slightest bit since his school days. Thus, it took only the tiniest bit of prodding to reinvigorate his hatred for Snape. Snape and Lupin worked with Harry on non-verbal hexes and protection charms and spells. Snape was sent to brew potions for St.Mungo's as the war ground on and on.


	10. Chapter 10

_Epilogue_

A year and a half later, little had really changed in the Wizarding world. Voldemort was still killing Muggles and Muggle-born wizards and witches. Harry was now nearly 22 and had become even more powerful. Between the secretly revived Dumbledore and Snape, Harry was learning all manner of new spells and counter spells. Dumbledore remained hidden with the Order at Grimmauld Place.

On occasion, Hermione would join Snape at St. Mungo's, but mostly she stayed close to their six-month old son, Nathaniel at headquarters. As a Muggleborn, friend to Harry, and wife to the traitor Snape, Hermione and her child were always in danger from Death Eaters. In a devilish twist of fate, Neville Longbottom had finished his apprenticeship in Herbology and joined the staff at St. Mungo's. It galled Snape to have Longbottom in the same laboratory, but Neville did bring some new ideas with him.

"Master Snape?" Longbottom called to Snape who had been working on a faster fever-reducing potion on the other side of the laboratory.

"Take care, Longbottom. My wife says that I am not to be cruel to you as you are her friend, so think carefully before you ask your next question," Snape snarled.

Hesitantly then, Neville moved over to Snape and stood in front of him before addressing him, "Sir, can you check these…"

Without warning, Snape shrieked in sheer agony and collapsed onto the floor. He clutched his left arm where the Dark Mark was. Neville was stunned momentarily, but then he put aside what he had in his hands and attended to Snape. Snape continued to writhe on the floor, incoherently screaming then moaning until he was suddenly still and unconscious.

Quite by happenstance, Hermione had been with Harry when the deed was done. She held Harry as he died in her arms, only a few feet from where Voldemort had finally given up the ghost along with Bellatrix LeStrange who was caught in the overload. The final battle had been unexpected, swift, and decisive in the middle of the main street in Diagon Alley. Both Harry's and Voldemort's wands had overloaded with the power of each casting the killing curse simultaneously. Upon Voldemort's death, each of his Death Eaters felt the pain of his dying surging through his or her arm where the Dark Mark was. The sudden incapacitation of Death Eaters made it simple for the aurors to round them up and transport them to Azkaban to await trials.

Younger Death Easters, like Draco Malfoy, who were relatively new to the ranks, took the least amount of time to recover. While Death Eaters who bore the Mark longer were in comas for days. Over the next few weeks, many spells began to spontaneously reverse when their casters, having died in the final fight, had their bodies immolated by the Ministry's grand funeral pyre. Neville's parents began to come back around much to the jubilation of Neville and his "Gran."

When Snape finally awakened, his sight had returned. Hermione placed their son into his arms for him to see how much Nathaniel looked like his father. Harry was buried with his parents in Dumbledore's tomb. A phoenix was carved on the outside with the words, "To the Boy-Who-Lived, Loved, and Saved."

Snape decided to remain at St. Mungo's as the Head of Potions Department. In the ninety odd years he worked with Neville Longbottom, he never did give up nettling Neville. After a few years, it became more a sport than real animosity. After all, it was Neville who saved Hermione's life after she nearly died in childbirth with their fourth child. It was then that Ginny finally married Neville who had pursued her since the year after Harry's death. Snape had enjoyed harassing Neville about his attempts to woo Ginny. With that amusement gone, he turned to harassing him about trying to replenish the Wizarding population all by themselves.

The Longbottoms had a dozen children, stair-stepped, two years apart. Ron married Luna who gave him four children and her quirky whole-hearted adoration. After serving ten years in Azkaban, Draco left for the continent and his mother's family there. Pansy had waited for him; he had reluctantly taken her for his wife shortly before the trial. In correspondence with his godfather, Draco recounted every fight and slight that he endured with Pansy. Snape would shake his head and mutter something about what you get when you marry a Slytherin, which served to amuse Hermione to no end.

Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts and rebuilt it. Minerva McGonagall served as his deputy, and then as Headmistress when Dumbledore died in his old age. There was peace in the Wizarding World for centuries following the deaths of Harry Potter and Tom Riddle.


End file.
